The writer, who made his way from Boston sports scribe to New York City police beat master to Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist, was able to pit the New York Daily News and the New York Post against each other in a bidding war for his services.

A number of fine actors portray McAlary’s colleagues, who could also be at times his competitors during New York’s scandal-ridden, crack-tormented years. Michael O’Shea is particularly appealing as Jim Dwyer, who like McAlary, worked for Newsday and the Daily News. He’s now at The New York Times.

As for the man himself, Andrew Uhlenhopp brings a believable ambition to the role. Like many writers, McAlary embodies a tango of humility and hubris. Wife Alice (Abby Apple Boes) is likable and credible as she provides the kind of ballast, arrogant yet doubtful, that scribes require. Her presence is even more persuasive after McAlary suffers a near-fatal car crash and then is diagnosed with cancer.

Directed by John Ashton, Edge Theater’s production is likely to settle into itself in upcoming performances. (It runs through July 5.)

In its favor, the play has an evocative set (by Christopher M. Walker) that allows Ashton to fluidly move the action from Maguire’s bar to various newsrooms to Mike and Alice’s bedroom. But technical cues were noticeably off. More worrisome was Dwayne Carrington‘s performance as newspaper editor James “Hap” Hairston.

Actor Courtney B. Vance won a Tony for the role in the Broadway production, which saw Tom Hanks in the role of McAlary. Not that that’s a fair measure. But by all accounts Hairston was a wise-cracking ace, a wordsmith. Along with editor John Cotter (Wade Livingston), he was credited with shepherding McAlary. But the typically compelling Carrington hasn’t found his way into the compelling figure, who often acts as narrator.

Though never dull, the play itself is not as illuminating about the man as it could be. One of McAlary’s legendary gifts was his ability to gain the trust of cops. He looked like one. He talked like one. So attest those who knew him. It would have been nice to see him work that charm, that connection, and not just hear about it through his colleagues.

“Lucky Guy” is Ephron’s celebration of print journalism, more than an exposé of its nastier edges. And god bless her for her compassion.

The play does delve into McAlary’s spate of columns that accused a rape victim of fabricating her assault for political gain. She didn’t. He is vindicated somewhat by taking another assault seriously — the sodomizing by police officers of Haitian immigrant Abner Louima. Andre Hickman’s brief, quietly rattling moment as Louima reminds the audience of what can truly be at stake in journalism. Those columns won him the Pulitzer Prize in 1998, months before his death.

Ephron, a one-time journalist turned screen and play writer as well as accomplished director, died in 2013, a year before this play opened.

In a piece for The New York Times about his mother’s death, Jacob Bernstein wrote “as plans moved forward with her play ‘Lucky Guy’ … it occurred to me that part of what she was trying to do by writing about someone else’s death was to understand her own.”

This is a fine grasp of what’s unexpectedly moving about the play and serves as a caution about what may be missing.

See a show at the Ellie Caulkins Opera House in 2015? Purchase a painting at a local art fair? How about buy a book from a Colorado author or visit a local museum? If you answered yes to any of these questions you contributed to the $13.7 billion arts and culture brought to the state’s economy that year.